Day Eighty–Nine (89): Friday, May 28th, 2010

89) Spiritual Journeys and Aboriginal Manifestations

The Australian Aborigines went on “walkabouts” to a “belonging place” (sacred place in the landscape) where they sought access to the Dreamtime. In such practices, they could tap into a great power much as a Law of Attraction practitioner might move into harmonious alignment by undertaking a spiritual journey and specific meditation practice in order to manifest a desired result.

E. P. Elkin, an Australian anthropologist, called the aboriginal medicine men of Australia “ment of High Degree” in his book Aboriginal Men of High Degree, and he admonished against devaluing the importance of their emphasis on psychic power as primitive magic.

This was the most exciting day for me . . .

Since I met my “little sister” Lori, I’ve wanted to bring her to New York and have her experience Broadway. Today, my wish came true.

A little history of our Big Sister/Little Sister friendship:

When Fredy and I moved to Pennsylvania in 2004 — to attempt to gain custody of his then 7-year-old daughter, Anika: He and I met, as happens when you get involved with new places, some of the deaf community of Lancaster, PA.

One of the deaf women I met, at a little get-together with many other deaf people, was Michelle. Michelle is, technically and functionally, HOH (Hard-of-Hearing).

Very quickly, speaking with her, she voices a lot as she is HOH and not full deaf. This was a relief, though, as my American Sign Language was, at that time, still improving. Yes, I lived with a deaf man since 2000; nevertheless, there were and are many things I do not know.

It also didn’t take long to figure out that Michelle was and is . . . mentally and emotionally like a teenager (even though she is only about 2 or 3 years my junior).

Michelle told me she had an ex-husband, a full deaf person and a young daughter, Lori. At that time she, Lori, was only 10-years-old. I told Michelle I’d love to meet her as I enjoy working with children. Lori is hearing.

Michelle asked me some questions about Lori and how to talk to her about . . . important matters. Michelle and her ex-husband had grown-up attending deaf schools and had no clue about public schools. I happily volunteered, at Michelle’s approval, to befriend her daughter and help her talk to her about anything she needed help [talking with the child] about, i.e. sex education, dating, creativity, grades and scrapbooking (which I did and do professionally, at times).

Lori and I were introduced at my apartment when she and Michelle came over to do a scrapbooking class. Lori and I hit it off immediately. In some way, she was my way of practicing to raise little Anika; whom, undoubtedly, wasn’t too far away from the same age.

Much has happened since that time, of course . . . and Lori is now 16-years-old. A very mature teenager. She had to grow up fast as she was interpreting for her deaf/HOH parents since about the age of 6. Even talking to lawyers and case workers at such a young age.

Lori and I became closer when her mother, a real mess, would cause emotional havoc to the girl. She’d turn to me for comfort, advice and just chatting.

One of my favorite moments was when Lori was about 12 or 13 years old. I was already in New York. We were chatting on the phone. I asked her, “Do you have a best friend?” [I wanted to order her a special book where it would put the name of the child and her real life friends in the story.].

I asked, “Do you have a best friend?”

Lori replied, “Yes, of course!”

I asked, “Who?”

Lori sincerely said, “You.”

I was moved and it made my heart feel great. Gotta love her!

Lori no longer speaks to or visits with her mother. Her father has been the full custodial parent since she was very young. A couple of years ago, Lori decided she didn’t want to see Michelle anymore.

There are many reason why . . . and they are all valid! Let me tell you!!! But, Michelle is another story for another time. Not only is she HOH, she’s also, as I stated, emotionally and mentally about 14-years-old. An irritating, disturbed 14-year-old.

Lori was older than her own mother by the age of 11 or 12, if not before!

Michelle will tell you that I did that to her daughter . . . or her father. She cannot and will not ever believe it is her and her actions. But, it is.

Now the happy times begin:

Her train arrived on time and I was a bit late . . .we called and she was right behind me. Lori felt nauseas from her first train ride and thought she might throw up.

I had, earlier in the day done something stupid. I left some frozen (cooked) shrimp out to thaw for a couple of hours (covered). Later, calling my friend, Diane; she explained that one shouldn’t thaw shrimp outside the refrigerator. I put it in, after the few hours already out. Later, when I opened it, it smelled fine and I ate it.

Thus, nerves or reality, I was feeling a bit queasy myself. I thought, perhaps, I had a case of food poisoning. By the time I picked up Lori . . . both of us queasy, we went over to Tick Tock Diner. She could only stomach hot tea. I had some food.

One day belated: I need to also acknowledge someone very important to me, Nick Atonna. Yesterday was his birthday. Nick was my boyfriend, the first man I wanted to marry, really. We dated for about one year and a half in 1983-1985ish. He is an identical twin. His brother, Bryan, died in a tragic accident just over ten years ago.

Day Eighty-Eight (88): Thursday, May 27th, 2010

88) Dreamtime Of The Australian Aborigines

Alignment with the Law of Attraction, for the ancient Australian Aborigines, was alignment and access to the Dreamtime’s energetic realm where they believed all creation takes place. Australian Aborigines were groups of people who migrated from the Asian continent to settle in Australia. Their tribes had various cultural practices but shared a deep reverence and connection to the land. Their view of the world’s beginning was known as the Dreamtime and their shamans or sorcerers placed great emphasis on dreams, sand drawings, and music played upon a didgeridoo, among other instruments.

Honesty time: I’m writing this in June . . .

Just too far behind to worry about catching up on every detail, but, I want to remind everyone:

People are giving my play, my actors and my director rave reviews! You really need to see the world premier of my play . . . you have two performances left to see it.

Featuring the art work of real life Guatemalan artist, Fredy Adolfo Gonzalez De Leon.

Day Eighty-Seven (87): Wednesday, May 26, 2010

86) How Shamans Have Used The Law of Attraction

To achieve the manifestation of the greater good, a spell might be cast, a blood-letting undertaken, a sacrifice made, or a dream incubated. For example, the shamans of several Native American tribes underwent vision quests, performed shamanic healings, sat in sweat lodges, and engaged in sun dances. They chanted incantations to ward off attacks by aggressive Europeans. That’s not to say that they always got what they wanted because the law, when opposite poles of attraction are set up, responds to the more powerful vibrational pull or yields a less strong or, in some cases, a mixed result. Native Americans performed incantations but were still attacked and lost battles to their powerful enemies whose forces, goals, and intentions proved stronger.

Yesterday, I spoke of some of my gifts . . .

Since it is day 87, it reminded me of 1987 as that was a pivotal year for me, regarding spirituality, Law of Attraction and beginnings and endings.

Most of it began pretty early on, February 1987. My father has been ill, with cancer and a strange accident in the hospital in October or November and wasn’t expected to live. He was laying, in an open-eyed coma at the Veteran’s Administration Hospital in Phoenix, AZ. I was back in Astoria (Queens), New York waiting to hear from Mom of any changes.

At Christmas, I flew home to visit with my parents. Daddy was already in the Veteran’s Hospital. A couple of months earlier, when, after a major surgery to remove his lung and part of his jaw — in ICU; my father had, in the middle of the night, fallen out of bed [according to a nurse’s report] and died for 15-minutes. After they resuscitated him and place Daddy on life-support they phoned my mother, announcing him brain-dead.

Before pulling the plug, Mom and I decided to make sure and had several neurosurgeon give their opinion; including, two top ones’ from New York. He was, indeed, by all accounts, brain-dead. We pulled the plug. From that day forward, my father was breathing on his own and only had a feeding tube and other tubes to sustain life. His breathing was his own.

This all happened at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Phoenix, AZ. I was told, by my mother, to stay in New York with my job and life, etc.

All the while, one of my dearest friends from Roosevelt Island, NY, Susan “Susie” Schwartzberg, only age 19, was battling her cancer. She had a tumor in her face; a tumor that first appeared when she was 5-years-old, was treated and went into remission and re-emerged at the age of 17.

My life, at this time was Rocky Horror Picture Show, Tim Curry and my job at a fashion showroom, as an Administrative Assistant. I worked in New York’s Garment District; just above Calvin Klein. At work, on the old-fashioned man-operated elevator, I saw people such as: Joan Rivers, Calvin Klein and Angela Jagger (one of Mick’s former wives). I was also involved with a cabaret act, began by good friend, Andrew Martin Arnold. Susie and I were both in this act.

Admittedly, the cabaret act was a great idea and Andrew’s baby. He, at that time, was a talented young gay man, one of my first Rocky Horror friends in New York who, through the years, has done a lot in the cabaret world of New York. He also has dealt with many of his life demons, some of them very well and some of them not so well. We had re-acquainted a few years back [three or four years ago] and a few months ago; after some on-line conversations that were, to me, rather condescending, childish and rude [not unusual, unfortunately, for Andrew] — I decided to unfriend him on facebook. I didn’t block him, nevertheless. Anyway, long story for another time.

In 1987, he and Susie were a huge part of my social life. We spent a lot of time together and the rest of my cast at my Brooklyn theatre, Marboro. Near Bensonhurst (Brooklyn). My Rocky Horror cast performing one night of the weekend and the other night we hung out the infamous 8th Street Playhouse in Greenwich Village (with the NYC Rocky Horror cast).

In the meantime, I felt, in my gut, I was getting closer and closer to living my dream of meeting and getting to know Tim Curry. I was not wrong!

In the early hours of February 4th, I was awoken from my sleep by a familiar voice. I heard my father say, “Wake up, little one. It’s time.”

At the foot of my bed stood my father, Michael Egic. He was a bit translucent and appeared similar to the Star Trek tv show; we used to watch together, right before they were beamed back completely–and my father stood there. Seeing as my father still lay in a coma in Arizona and I was there, in my Queens, NY apartment — it occurred to me quickly, he was passing on and stopped to bid me goodbye.

Daddy and I had a conversation, which I’ll share another time; he went “into the light” which, he told me, he kept seeing. I went back to sleep, forgot it all until I got to work later that morning — and it came flooding back.

My father died the same day as Liberace. February 4th, 1987

A few months later, August 28th, 1987 . . . after five years of hoping, praying, imagining the day. I finally met the man: The one, the only TIM CURRY! I met him, just me and no other fans, at 1515 Broadway (now MTV Studios), which, at that time housed Minskoff Rehearsal Studios. Tim was there rehearsing the Broadway touring show ME AND MY GIRL.

On my birthday, September 28th, I turned 24-years-old; I went to see Susie in Sloane Kettering Hospital, where she stayed because her cancer (tumor) had progressed. She was legally blind now, due to the location of the tumor and going deaf in one ear. Prognosis was not good. In fact, when I arrived at the hospital, Susie was all excited to tell me about her bouquet of flowers from her favorite actor, Christopher Reeve [before his tragic accident, mind you]. I told I met Tim Curry; but played it down for Susie to have her moment and celebrate Christopher Reeve’s gift to her.

In November 1987, I received a call from Susie . . . from her home on Roosevelt Island [I had lived with her and her family briefly the year before]. She was inviting me to her 20th birthday party. Her voice, now very damaged from the tumor, was barely understandable.

A note on Susie’s voice: When she had the tumor at age 5. The chemotherapy and the placement of the tumor damaged her nasal passages and she had very buck teeth and the highest voice . . . so high, we called her “Squeaky” . . . but wow, what a high soprano she was when she sang in our cabaret group! Now, due to the progression of the tumor; she slurred her words and the high pitch was just difficult to understand.

My friend, Arleen and I, attended Susie’s 20th birthday party. It was evident, Squeaky would not be with us much longer. She died a few days later.

In late 1986, too . . .my poor mother lost her brother, Curly [Everett Collins] and her sister, Mary Margaret Ream to cancer, also. Both in Arizona.

Curly was an interesting uncle and caused much problems in my immediate family. I’ll elaborate at a later time.

Mary was good, as I remember her and I was close to her children, my cousins and keep in touch with one, to this day. I talk to her other three children, too . . . just not as often as my cousin, Linda.

Day Eighty-Six (86): Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

86) Psychics And Shamans Tap Into Spiritual Power

Psychics and shamans have traditionally been people who claim to sense the unseen, see into the future (divination), work with the supernatural in lower or higher realms of existence, or have the ability to influence unseen energies or spirits through spells, incantations, magic dream work, music, ecstatic trances, and sacred dance. Ancient peoples called psychics and shamans by other names, medicine man/woman, priest/priestess, or sorcerer/sorceress, necromancer, and magician, for example, depending upon their particular cultures. Often shamans occupied places of high position within a village or culture.

Many people have asked me how my psychic/intuitive gifts work? Where do they come from? Are they inherited? Briefly here, I will attempt to explain for those who want to know.

First, let me say, I honestly believe 98% of the population have psychic gifts. Perhaps it is 100%, nevertheless, I’ve met a couple who — whether it be lack of education, socially or tradition, or other factors — seem devoid of any inner guidance system at all; thus, I say 98%.

Psychic gifts manifest is various ways and by many different names. For example, knowing who is calling on the telephone before it rings, or without looking at the caller ID. Or much more major intuitive messages such as the dozens or hundreds of stories of September 11th, 2001 — when many people decided to not go to work at the World Trade Center, or travel to New York. In fact, that’s my story!

From May 2000 through May 2004, I lived in Los Angeles, California. At the beginning of September 2001, my live-in boyfriend, Fredy Adolfo Gonzalez De Leon, had received his workers compensation after a two or so year battle. It was approximately $35,000.00.

We were living in a motel and had, with the money, finally planned to move to our own apartment. Fredy was tired of hearing me talk about New York and how much I loved it. He also was interested in seeing New York and Washington DC. Particularly the Pentagon and in New York, The World Trade Center.

September 9th, 2001 Fredy and I were sitting in our hotel room and contemplating our move . . . and having a little fun on some of the money. We had a rough year together, financially. Fredy and I had been together from September 9, 2000. So, he told me that anniversary morning that he wanted us to go to New York the next day. He would buy us the tickets that day, the 9th, and we could leave for New York on September 10th.

I missed New York terribly and really had been talking, for months about the money and going back “home” for a visit. So, yes, I was interested in this spur of the moment plan. Yet, I had gained a lot of weight since my departure from NYC in 1997 and two weeks before, in Burbank, CA, I had just joined Weight Watchers. I thought about the amazing offer for a couple of hours, felt queasy (actually) and then, I told Fredy.

“Not now, I’m too fat and don’t want my friends to see me fat. We’ll do it later in the year.”

Fredy said fine and reminded me he had made the offer.

On the morning of September 11th, I awoke to the newscast of the first tower being hit. Fredy was watching it. I asked him why he was watching such an awful movie . . . and he pointed out it was LIVE!!! I was crying and was saying, this is planned, someone is going to hit the other tower. As I said it to Fredy, the 2nd plane flew into the 2nd tower!

Another strange note about that . . . I lived in New York from 1984 to 1989 and again from 1992-1997. I had recurrent dreams, nightmares, really, for all those years of being in an upper floor of the WTC, and seeing fire and I would be holding onto the carpet as the building swayed uncontrollably toward the water and the other buildings.

Since 9/11/2001, those dreams have ceased.

As for my family history:

My mother tells stories, one in particular, about her father, Norman Collins, reading the stars.

My mother was very young, obviously and was standing outside in her home of Ashland, Kentucky with her father. He was reading the stars to her.

He said to Mom, “In six weeks the President will die in the White House.”

Six weeks later, President Roosevelt died in the White House.

My mother, of course, calls her gifts “intuitive” and they have always made me insane. Why? Well, as a child, my mother would always share her feelings, out loud, to my friends, family and strangers! I found it embarrassing and sometimes just plain cruel. Mind you, my mother is about honesty. And she doesn’t mince her words! Nor does she have any tact. What pissed me off the most . . . she was usually right on the money!!!

I’d bring a friend home, on occasion (if I was too embarrassed) and my mother would take one look at him or her and say, out loud, “That girl is not your friend.”

I’d be insulted and my friend would be, too. More often than not, I would try to defy my mother’s prediction and continue to hang out with the friend. And lo and behold, a month or more later, the friend would betray me in some way. Mom was always right on the money.

Of course, Mom gave me positive statements, too with “I like him, he’s a good guy.” She adored my high school boyfriend, Vincent Townsend. He and I were together for three years.

Mom is now 78-years-old and still says embarrassing things. There are stories that would make most of you freak out, blush or run and hide in some rural commune. Although, if you have met my mother or you do . . . trust me, everyone, in the long run, loves her! I guess a Southern accent makes the insults seem funny or less biting. Still, my mother does, after a long dose, tend to get on peoples’ nerves. You think I talk a lot?! Meet Verna, or as her nieces and nephews call her “Aunt Dolly”!

I come from a long line of drunks, talkers and nut cases. Don’t say a thing to me about that! You cannot be crazy if you know you are, right? I know I am . . .

How does my gift(s) work? I would say, basically, I see pictures and movies in my head. They tend to be accurate and right on the money. Perhaps, as my mother’s instincts tell her. Although, generally, I am more tactful (I hope!).

I am also clairaudient and clairvoyant. I hear words in my head . . .they are like my own thoughts, yet different. Thus, I can distinguish from my own words and those from a higher place. And yes, I see dead people and spirits . . . all the time, walking around like everyone else. [I borrowed that from SIXTH SENSE]. I would say, though, as I got older, it’s more like I sense them in a mental vision.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes, I see them, too. Nevertheless, not exactly like GHOST WHISPERER clear. They would be more faded looking . . . somewhat see-through.

Day Eighty-Five (85): Monday, May 24th, 2010

85) Manifest Your Highest Potential

The Rosicrucians teach that spiritual seekers in their organization will learn about the workings of the natural laws over all realms as well as discover the interconnectedness of all metaphysical teachings and also increase understanding of self.

For those seeking better health, abundant career opportunities, better family relationships, or stepped-up personal growth, the Rosicrucian Order and other spiritual traditions can reveal how to actualize those desires. People can literally re-set a new course for their lives once they understand the wisdom ways taught by the Rosicrucian Order. The path believers walk is necessarily an inner path into the secrets of the Self, and it is the path that mystics have walked for centuries.

Day Eighty-Four (84): Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

23) Self Mastery Can Achieve Spiritual Results

Rosicrucians believe that the key to gaining the mastery of life lies in your personal power and the source for all power is found within. With such mastery, you attain also strength, peace, and wisdom. The Law of Attraction works to help you achieve that mastery when you are attuned to the source. Harmoniously in tune with the universal spiritual laws, such as the Law of Attraction, you draw to you that which you need to further your spiritual unfolding.

To study the Rosicrucian way requires that a person seeks truth, has an open mind, a positive mental outlook, and clear aspiration for spiritual understanding. In other words, positive thinking and clarity of life goals can greatly impact the results you seek.

Today, in the Source Writers Meet-Up we read all the short plays for the June 21-26, 2010 production TestoGENIUS: A Celebration of Men.

It’s a special festival of plays, born out of the idea of the famous THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES. I believe it began with our Writers Forum member John Watts. The guys in the group through around titles such as THE PENIS MONOLOGUES, and had found it was taken. We’ve had other festivals at Manhattan Theatre Source, i.e. for 11 years, ESTROGENIUS; which celebrates women-themed plays and/or women playwrights: And the recent INGENIUS; celebrating some of the work from the Writers Forum. Thus, they came up with TESTOGENIUS and my play is in it.

ESTROGENIUS does the same thing . . . they allow men playwrights as long as the play is about women’s themes.

As I write this, nevertheless, it is already near the end of June (June 24th to be exact) and we in the middle of the production of TESTOGENIUS, which I’ll write even more about soon.

At the reading, on this day . . . which I’m recalling. My hearing actor, Charles Casano, was there to read my piece out loud. Everyone seemed to like it, and a lot of the other pieces were fun and/or serious or a little of both. Mine is pretty serious, nevertheless.

Here’s a breakdown of those that were read and by whom:

THE THINGS I THINK ABOUT WHEN I SHOULD BE MASTURBATING by Vinnie Marano

THE BIG D by John DiSciasco

MIGHT AS WELL BE SWANSEA by John Watts

SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL by Timothy Nolan

CHILDLESS FATHER by Angela Theresa Egic (me under my legal name): I act under my stage name of Angela Theresa Collins

Day Eighty–Three (83): Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

83) A Dream Unites A Divided Egypt

One leader of the ancient world, King Narmar of Egypt, desired to unite Upper Egypt with Lower Egypt and lived to see his desire manifested. King Narmar’s unification of Egypt had a profound and positive impact on all aspects of Egyptian life. His prosperity was revealed in a mace head discovered by archeologists. It showed the king with his bodyguards and provided a list of all this assets. His people like-wise experienced a glorious period as a unified Egypt saw the building of pyramids and the development of hieroglyphics, more stability, and expanded trade. Some might say that those achievements stand as a powerful testament to the positive thinking and the hopes, dreams and deeds of the Egyptian people and their visionary leader.

Let’s chat a short bit about people whom I’ve put out of my life:

I do not do this lightly . . .

I am not easily offended, either . . . thus, if I block you or unfriend you, there are very good reasons. I am in the belief after telling you over and over (and I do have a tendency to filibuster) what you’re doing is upsetting, hurting or bothering me and you continue to do it; well, I am going to block you or cut you off from my life.

Here is my real life example . . .

I was acquainted with a guy, a younger guy, and it was nothing but an internet friendship. Met him on-line in some place from about ten years ago, similar to facebook. An okay kid . . . really.

Years later, he found me on facebook or meetup.com or something like that. Now in his 30s he suffered much the same fate as many of us. Found himself in NYC without a job. Understandably having hard times. He would post statuses on facebook about if anyone knew of any job.

I suggested what I do: NYC Tour Guide

He had a million and one excuses as to why he couldn’t be a tour guide. Most of those excuses I debunked immediately. As his “excuses” were invalid; were not even the truth of today’s world.

Excuses such as: “I’m a singer and I cannot ruin my singing voice by speaking loud.”

The truth: Nowadays, tour guides have microphone.

Excuse: “I have a problem standing for hours.”

The truth: On top of tour busses we sit down. At least, we should. Some tour guides choose to stand, but officially, it is illegal to stand. [I don’t].

Anyway, after facing the fact that he just didn’t want to be a tour guide . . . I watched my hands of it. Then, he would post other “depressive” status’. Many things about his need of a job or his undiagnosed disability. One day, I met him in person. He is overweight and has a problem with his teeth (a huge problem that turns people away).

He began posting how doctors can find nothing wrong with his foot (which he says is a problem or something). We’d end up in long email discussions about his lack of positive thinking and his need to find something wrong. A reason for him to think the world owes him a living.

I suggested, if he is so desperate, to go get any job . . . McDonald’s, etc. And still, excuse after excuse, about how he cannot do that . . . he’s too educated, too disabled. Of course, the government won’t give him disability because doctors find nothing wrong with him. This went on for months and months, maybe a year.

I told him, logical deduction, lose weight and your self-diagnosed disability would ease. Then, he would send me pages and pages of email as to why I’m wrong. All negative bullshit.

Finally, after all this, I wrote him an email . . . because even after I quit writing back, and saying nothing . . . he continued to send me diatribe after diatribe of why I am wrong about him. I told him to stop writing to me. At least, stop writing any negative type emails. I didn’t want to read one more negative thing fromhim.

If he wanted to write and update me once in a while, fine . . . BUT, it must be positive, i.e., “I’m doing great, all is well.” I made this clear in my email. Besides, I have no huge investment in this guy. Yeah, I like to be right and I enjoy preaching. Yet, like anyone else, if my preaching (when the person asked for help over and over, which he did) doesn’t turn into the person taking my advice, or trying to — I stop.

Thus, I was really done with this guy. And my policy to give warning before I take action (in some situations). I warned him: No more emails of a negative manner or I will unfriend you (facebook is where he send most of these). He wrote another long facebook email explaining why he has a “right” to be negative.

I wrote back . . . and told him. I have unfriended you. If you write another email of the same manner I will block you.

He wrote another long, long email; which began with something negative (I only read the first sentence or two, as per my promise of not reading anymore negative crap from him). I blocked him.

Since that time, about a year ago . . . he has stalked me. I found his name on something at the theatre where I perform. He has texted me on my phone. And an email or two which I delete immediately. Once I make a decision, it’s done.

There are times, I will rekindle a positive friendship (if it was positive at anytime) — if the person leaves me alone after I made it CLEAR not to contact me for a while; and they go by that. But, when one stalks me, well, it becomes a problem.

So, the other day (this is being written in June) . . . this wacko stalked me on a dating site! Of course, we never dated, at all. I sent him the first note back in ages (maybe a year) and reminded him that it is getting weird and he is now seeming like a stalker.

He wrote back, right before I blocked him on there. “I don’t know what I did to make you hate me so much.”

Well, first off. I don’t hate him. I don’t like him, either. Nevertheless, hate is a strong emotion . . . hate also means you have a passion for the person.

Even when we were supposedly friends . . . it was never for my benefit. He didn’t add to my life. The so-called friendship was because I am, generally, kind to people. I had no vested interest in him in a personal way. Yes, I wish all human beings joy and happiness and prosperity; and that is the only thing I feel for him.

To feel that for him is no reason I would want him in my life. The people in my life are those that add to me in a POSITIVE way. Those who constantly remind me or themselves how awful their life is, or society, or the economy and that is ALL they do. Well, that’s brings me down. Makes me depressed and I don’t need that.

Sure, some of my friends complain . . . I complain . . . I have my issues. BUT, for the most part, those closest to me get through it and we share positive experiences together.

Aside from this diatribe and a couple of others . . . I aim for the positive, too.

So, no, I do not hate this person. I dislike his message and I certainly dislike and am a bit afraid of people who cannot take “no, don’t contact me” as an answer. That is a sign of a mental illness and being stalked is frightening.

And to clear up any other accusations concerning my favorite actor. NO, I am not a stalker. Because, from past experiences, not just this one … I do know, because I am not mentally ill, that stalking is negative and a crime. And I have no desire, nor ever have, to force anyone to be my friend, etc.

I don’t have to force anyone to be my friend. I have many friends and we adore one another.

I do not hate anyone, either.

But, I get the choice of who is in my life and who isn’t. Just as you get this choice, too.

When someone ends their friendship with me. I, too, appreciate an answer. When I received an answer, on occasions when that has happened [someone ends a friendship with me]; I don’t force the person to be my friend, again. I may not agree with the answer, but I will ask for one.

In fact, I received an answer from one a couple of years ago. She ended our friendship because she felt I was a stalker [of my favorite actor, just because I went to see him in a show], and a user [of other people]. I accepted her answer, BUT, I said to her: “It is obvious, you do not know me. Although we had a friendship for over six years, your opinion of me is incorrect. And if you feel I am those things, then, yes, I understand we have no friendship.”

I only have my own issue with those who do not explain why . . . if there is no apparent or obvious reason to end our friendship. Or, at least, apparent to me. Explanations are good for closure.

In this case, I gave this guy the answer. And added another reason: I avoid people who put words in my mouth that I have not said. I never said, in the entire time I knew him that I hated him or anyone.

People need to listen better. One of my biggest pet peeves . . .DO NOT PUT WORDS IN MY MOUTH. Hate and dislike are two very different things. And the opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference. Hate has passion as does love. Indifference is what I feel, for the most part, for this guy.

My ego, though, wants to clear the air about his accusatory statement that I hate anyone.

Day Eighty–Two (82): Friday, May 21st, 2010

82) How Alexander Became Great

In a discussion of the Law of Attraction, two words of Greek origin stand out: eudaimonia, meaning “human excellence and flourishing,” and anasa, meaning “new beginnings.” In ancient Greek history, a man named Alexander the Great epitomized the use of focused intention for beginning a new goal and a strong belief in one’s personal excellence to manifest great things.

Before he died, Alexander managed to conquer the vast majority of the ancient world that was known to the Greeks of that time. He remained undefeated in battle. He clearly knew what goal he wanted to manifest in life and through the power of his thoughts, the intensity of his desire, and the Law of Attraction working with his thoughts and feelings, he became a formidable foe against his enemies.

Day Eighty–One (81): Thursday, May 20th, 2010

81) Collective Desire Creates Positive Results

When a leader and a group of people are holding a common vision for a goal, feeling expectant and joyful about the possibility of achieving it, and remaining focused while also putting energy toward accomplishing the goal every day, they are following a powerful recipe for success in manifesting their collective desire.

The Jews’ goal was to get to the Promised Land even though it meant that they had to walk for forty years in the desert. Nevertheless, their belief that God was guiding them remained strong, steady, and focused. It allowed for their miraculous crossing of the Red Sea, safe passage through lands owned by their enemies, and, finally, entry to the Promised Land, the culmination of their jointly held dream.

Shanghaied to Brooklyn again . . .

I was, once again, on tour sent to do the Brooklyn tour. In a way, it’s a blessing. They are less strict at the South Street Seaport stop. I can use a bathroom or get lunch without being pressured to jump on and start again.

Callbacks for TestoGenius . . . Meeting Bridgette Boucher:

Only had one actor show up tonight, a deaf actor named Mauricio Vanegas. Bridgette did a great audition with him. We had him translate some of the script. Then, Bridgette had him tell two stories to us; so we could see him express emotions.

Bridgette and I also thought it a good idea to cast two deaf actors. It is more difficult to find deaf actors than hearing, at least, in my hearing world.